


The Edge

by LexiM02



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8791522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiM02/pseuds/LexiM02
Summary: Is Michael too far gone for the FAHC? Can he be pulled back before he does something drastic?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is really angsty and I'm not even sorry. also this was first uploaded from my phone so apologies for any formatting errors. Happy reading!

Michael sat on the roof's rough concrete edge, legs over the side, dirty shoelaces dangling over his feet, swaying ever so lightly in the weak night breeze. The concrete was dirty and cold, but Michael kept rolling the little pebbles that had eroded off the stone between his fingers. Up here, nobody could hear him. Or see him. Down below, the city was buzzing with nightlife. Bright lights flashing at dizzying speeds with blinding colour, car horns, people shouting, the low hum of electricity and A/C units on top of the buildings surrounding him. All of it echoed in his ears. How many times had he looked down at the city and vowed to leave a path of devastation, to light the highrises ablaze and never look back, torching the bridges he hadn't yet burned and then flee to a new life, one where he went to college, got an actual job, met someone, got married, bought a house in the suburbs? What happened? He hadn't chosen that. He chose a life of bar fights and back alley brawls, bruises and contusions and blood, so much blood. Heists and danger and drugs.  
If Michael looked up, he could see the stars through the city smog. He was amazed how Los Santos seemed like it was a living, breathing entity. A dragon that chewed up its enemy and spat them right back out again. Who hadn't seen the victims? Models turned junkies. Actors turned hookers. Businessmen caught embezzling. All of them ruined. All because of the life. The city life, plagued with greed and want for more. Los Santos was the place to go if you needed to destroy everything beautiful and worthwhile in your life.  
Michael sighed. He always did feel a need to self destruct, and right now every sense in him was screaming at him to jump off that ledge. He didn't. He would never be another victim of Los Santos, the city that smelled like gasoline and copper, tinged with destruction. The city that never slept, never even bothered to rest, going full tilt at all times.  
Michael didn't even bother to look up when he heard the door to the rooftop opening. He knew who it was. Geoff. The one who had introduced him to this life. The life of gleaming weaponry, fires and explosions and fights, heists, taking what you want regardless of what anyone said, by force if necessary, the law be damned. The life of screaming down the freeway at 200 miles and hour, AK-47 still strapped to your back, a fistful of stolen property, and a brick of designer club drugs on the dashboard.  
"Hey, Michael." Geoff's voice cut through the static sounds of the city below, and through the static thoughts Michael was trying to think.  
"Hi." He replied, looking down as he heard gunshots from below. They didn't live in a pristine neighborhood, although all of Los Santos was a pile of garbage.  
"What's up? Sitting on the roof again?"  
"Yeah." Michael drew in a sharp breath. How was he supposed to articulate just how much he hated himself?  
Michael stared at the alley below and sighed. He didn't look up until he felt Geoff's hand on his shoulder, warm and sturdy, a grounding force.  
"You alright, Michael?"  
He focused on the hold Geoff had on his shoulder. It was firm but kind, a gesture of worry. It was so cold outside, but Geoff was warmer than he should have been. Michael couldn't discern whether he was shaking because of the cold or because he felt like he was about to explode.  
"No." He replied, finally breaking the silence.  
"Why not?"  
Michael couldn't reply. Geoff would be so pissed when he found out just how much Michael wanted to end things. Geoff was the closest thing to a father Michael ever had and he didn't want to disappoint him. He shrugged off his jacket and let Geoff see for himself. Even in the dim lighting of the highrises around them, it wasn't hard to see the almost uniform white line scars up and down his forearms. The reason Michael was always so eager to risk his life, he really didn't care whether he lived or not. Geoff ran his hands over the raised marks. His hands were calloused and rough, but Michael didn't mind.  
"Michael..." Geoff let his sentence trail off as he touched the fresh injuries carefully, frowning when Michael winced.  
"You can't...you shouldn't do that to yourself."  
Michael had expected Geoff to be angry with him, he was the crew's best fighter, their explosives expert, and he didn't want to live? His last crew boss lost his mind upon seeing Michael's damage, but Geoff was doing the exact opposite. He seemed gentle, understanding.  
"I can't lose you. Do you know how important you are to me, to the crew? We can't be the FAHC without you."  
Michael felt tears prickling the back of his eyes. He was important to them? He knew Geoff never lied to the crew. Especially not in situations like this.  
"You're an asset to us. We can't do this alone. No matter what you think, you're needed by us."  
Michael was full on crying now. He could barely hear the din of the city as Geoff pulled him off the ledge into a tight hug. Michael never had someone who seemed like a father to him, at least until he met Geoff. Even though Geoff was warmth and kindness tinged with whiskey and bad decisions, Michael loved him like a father. Geoff cared about him, and as he stood wrapped in a hug high above the city that never loved him, crying on the shoulder of the one person who did, he finally felt like he belonged.  
Michael knew this wasn't the first time he was pulled from the edge, and he didn't know if it would be the last time, either. But right now, he didn't think it mattered. He let Geoff drag him back inside to a crew who cared about him enough to send Geoff up to get him from the roof in the first place.


End file.
